


Sunset

by jaysflight



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Aftermath of Midnight, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, look it was a traumatic experience, season four
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:41:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22074208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaysflight/pseuds/jaysflight
Summary: After Midnight, The Doctor isn’t himself anymore. Donna attempts to help him open up.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 52





	Sunset

—  
The usual desperate pretence of everything being normal, and alright, had been shattered, the pieces blown away in the wind.

She hadn’t complained, or questioned. In fact, she hadn’t uttered a word. He hadn’t either. And really, that was what was worrying her, but she was getting the feeling she shouldn’t try and force conversation; let him make the first move, she thought.

Which was a pretty goddamn stupid idea, because this was the Doctor we were talking about. Good ol’, closed off Spaceman, always slamming a mask of steel down over his face whenever the mention of something merely relating to his own, personal emotions and troubles arose. He refused to acknowledge it, and the next thing you knew, a smile was dancing over his lips, and he was already babbling about the next big adventure he wanted to undertake.

But not this time.

The mask had cracks in it, this time round. Hell, it wasn’t even present, and that unnerved Donna more than she would like to admit. Gone were the brown, twinkling eyes, the manic grin, replaced by a dead, apathetic gaze that stared right through her, his mind a wandering place that was already far gone.

He wasn’t even trying to pretend anymore.

She hadn’t inquired, not fully. But he had worn the same, haunted gaze after exiting the shuttle bus, that already starting to alarm her, and as she wrapped her arms around his skinny frame, she could so easily feel his exhaustion. He hardly even reacted to the comforting touch; he just slumped into her arms.

He had explained what had happened to her. She could tell it wasn’t everything, that he was skipping over bits and pieces and whole chunks he didn’t want to have to say out loud. But she understood enough; and sympathy and horror clashed and mixed in her as his experience sank in.

And now it was a few days later, and they were sitting in a verdant field, a light breeze tickling the soft grass they sat in. The sky before them was beautiful; pink and white and orange all together, forming what we call a sunset, the descent of this planet’s blazing star.

It was Earth, most definitely; presumably mid 19th century, but in all honesty, she didn’t care. They were here because she had finally persuaded the Doctor to leave his prized ship, although there had been numerous protests of “The TARDIS doesn’t want me to go, Donna!” and “I can’t, I have things to do-“ (These had all been lies, of course. The Time Lord’s ship wanted him out, and better, as much as the Time Lord’s companion did. Donna felt like she should have been surprised at their mutual goal and sadness, but it felt completely natural, like the connection had always been there). 

It was quiet, up here. Legs dangled off a cliff, and miles of forest stretched out below them, parallel to the endless fields. Occasionally, she would steal a glance towards him; and her heart would break a bit further, the chisel of cold truth chipping it away. She was filled with admiration and respect for this man’s strength and bravery and resolute, but it hurt so badly to see him deal with so much hidden pain. 

He was trying to pick up the shattered pieces of the mask the wind had blown away. Piece by piece, day by day, and by the determined look on his face, he really did think it was working. Or maybe he was just hoping that she’d drop the subject. Forget the happenings he told her about on Midnight. And then they’d be off again, traveling the universe in his little blue box, ready to discover the wonders of it all.

Yeah. Sure.

She looked over at him again, eyebrows furrowed. He was looking down at the landscape, seemingly tracing every little thing in sight, but there was just a touch too much sadness, and that sense of absence, peaking through the curtain and showing itself on the stage that was his face. He was letting himself drift again, forgetting he wasn’t alone.

“So,” The woman suddenly started, surprising herself and apparently her friend as well. Well. She blinked, eyes meeting his brown. It was about time she said something. And simply, the truth was she couldn’t take seeing him like this anymore. 

It was time to strike.

“So,” She repeated. She paused, searching for words her tongue wouldn’t or couldn’t provide. Shit. She hadn’t thought this through properly. Well, she had, of course she had, after what, three days? But all of that preparation had gotten thrown out the window the moment she had decided to open her mouth. “The sunset’s pretty... nice.”

He didn’t reply to that. His expression was confused, and to her surprise and indignation she noticed amusement creeping into his eyes. She raised her eyebrows, shooting him a death glare, although it faded almost immediately as a small, light chuckle left the alien. It seemed genuine; enough to make a smile climb her lips, at least. “Yeah. Guess it is, isn’t it?”

He held her gaze for a bit longer, his eyebrows knitting downwards just as hers had done earlier. And then he turned, back to the world, and Donna watched in dismay as the smile dropped from his face, as quickly as a pebble might drop from this cliff.

His sadness and plain, primal fear pierced the air like a javelin, and the sudden intensity of it made a surge of confidence pass through her. She had to help him.

“Doctor,” She tried again, and it must have been something in her voice, in the tone, because this time he didn’t turn his head to look around, to attempt the use of the mask. “It’s been days. You have to talk about it, you can’t just bottle it up and pretend what happened didn’t happen. It’s not healthy.” As she spoke, she saw his body start to tense up, but he still didn’t look around. She resisted the urge to sigh, and instead she scooted closer, just a tad. “Come on, Spaceman. You can trust me. Seriously, I’m not going to just up and leave once you spill the beans,” She attempted some humour, and when he obstinately kept staring straight ahead, ignoring her, she bit her lip, looking down at her lap. God, he was infuriating sometimes, with all the walls and defenses he put up, refusing to lower them even in the presence of a friend.

Like hell she was letting that continue.

After a moment of hesitation, she started again. “Hey,” she reached out a hand, placing it over his. She had lifted her head in the same motion, and her look was now fixed on the side of his face, awaiting a response. “I promise that you can talk to me, okay?” She gave his hand a squeeze. “I promise.”

He didn’t answer for a long time. After a while, Donna thought he wasn’t ever going to. She was just about to say something else, to press him more despite his reluctance, when he cut her off with a few short words that took her off guard.

“I’ve been doing this for a long time, y’know. This ‘bottling up’ thing.” He shifted, and before she had the time to process the sharp movement, she found herself staring into piercing brown eyes, face to face with the hard, impassive expression she had grown so used to seeing on the Doctor. “So tell me, Donna, why I should start opening up now?”

His voice had quietened as he spoke again. There was a demanding edge to it, as if it were a question he desperately needed the answer to. And, to the human’s dawning realisation as she stared into those tired, tired eyes, that was exactly the case.

“Because I’m here, now.” She replied, with an equal volume, a soft tone. “I’m here, and I’m your friend, and I want to help.” She smirked, a confident and joking twitch of her lips, “And I will help, you daft old alien.” before her face turned serious and compassionate once more. “I’m not letting you hurt yourself anymore.”

From an outside perspective, you wouldn’t have noticed any immediate change in his demeanour. But Donna could just feel him decompress and let go before she saw it, the strong, hard tension in the air crumbling like a house of cards. And then his jaw relaxed and his eyes lost their intense spark and turned tired, the smallest exhale of acceptance and recognition leaving his parted lips. “Okay.”

The Doctor’s eyes were dull and worn out, sure, but for the first time in days, Donna was relieved beyond belief, because he was there again.

He spoke again, this time with the beginning of a real smile. “Okay.”  
—

**Author's Note:**

> A quick oneshot - I figured posting it now would be a good way to start off the new year, as I plan to post more of my writing this year! I originally wrote this back in May 2019, at the height of my Doctor Who phase, and I think it still holds out ^^ also, happy series 12 day!


End file.
